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TUE RUM MANIAC. Page U. 



The Rum Fiend, 



AND OTHER POEMS. 



WILLIAM H>'"bURLEIGH 



New York: 

National Temperance Society and Publication House, 

58 READE STREET. 

1871. 



Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the 3^ear 1871, by 

J. N. STEARNS, 

In the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C. 



John Ross & Co., Printers, 27 Rose Street, New York. 



\^ CONTENTS. 



pag: 

The Rum Fiend 

Dash the Wine-Cup Away ! 31 

The Demon of Intemperance .4: 

Hymn of the Reformed 4; 

The Bards of Bacchus 41 



THE RUM FIEND, 



'TWAS a cold, rough night in the month of March — 

The clouds were scudding athwart the sky, 
And the sprites that dwell in the boughs of the larch 

Moaned, as the moaning winds swept by ; 
And here and there through the stormy rack 

A star would gleam (like a sleepy eye 
Just glimpsing out ere the lid falls back), 

Then the rifts would close, and the mist drift by. 

It Avas past the time, by an hour or two, 

When ghosts walk forth— if the tales are true 

That pleased and tortured our childhood's brain. 

As tales never please nor torture again. 

For, as older we grow — it is always thus — 

We lose our faith in the marvellous ; 

And the more we know, the less we care 

For the spirits of earth or the spirits of air; 

Or for any spirits, unless we think 

They are something nice in the way of drink. 



6 TJlc Runt Fiend. 

On such a night, at an hour so late, 

Toasting his heels by a well-filled grate ; 

Serene as a clam at the full of the tide, 

With an air that said, '' I am satisfied," 

A grog-seller sat, with his pipe and his mug, 

As snug as a bug in the folds of a rug ; 

Now daintily sipping some strong hot stuff. 

Now Avatching the smoke as, puff by puff, 

Lazily up from his lips it rolled, 

Veilino- his face with its fleecv fold. 

While a dubious scent, and a twilight gloom 

Which seemed the shade of a coming doom, 

Gathered and settled throughout the room. 

The dingy walls, but an hour before. 

Had echoed the songs and wild uproar 

Of a drunken gang — say, a dozen or more — 

Who had guzzled enough for at least three score 

For wild and long had their revel been. 

With oath, and curse, and jest obscene, 

And songs as vile and almost as mean 

As the liquor they drank — which was not overclean- 

And many a bumper of terrible stuff, 

Raw and rough, and fiery enough 

To kill a dragon, however tovigh, 

Down their throats did the idiots pour. 

And shrieked for more, till the hideous roar 

Rattled the windows and shook the door, 

As if Bedlam below with its imps ran o'er ; 



TJie RuiJi Fiend. 7 

Yet still they sang, and shouted, and laughed, 
And quaffed as they swore, and swore as they quaffed, 
Till oaths were stuttered with everv drausfht. 

Tables and chairs, to the noisy tune, 
Went whirling away in a wild rigadoon ; 
Bottle and toddy-stick, tumbler and spoon, 
Seemed mad as "the cow" that ''jumped over the 

moon ;" 
Glasses were ringing, corks popping and whizzing, 
Bourbon was flowing, champagne was fizzing, 
And louder and louder the din grew each minute, 
Till the grog-seller swore that the devil was in it : 
Nor was he forsivorn^ for his impship zvas there, 
In drinker and drink, like a beast in his lair. 
Few places can please him as well as a dram-shop, 
Where he'd feel quite at home as a cod in a clam-shop 

As drunk as aldermen, one by one, 

The roystering fools to their homes had gone, 

Both the sharps and the flats, with a brick in their 

hats, 
To sprawl on the floor or to snore on their mats, 
And to dream of that place and its horrible sights 
Where the}" don't rake up the fire o' nights, 
To wake on the morrow to shame and to pain. 
Hands trembhng, eyes bloodshot, and dizz}- of brain, 
Not wiser, it may be, but sadder. 



8 The Rum Fiend. 

To curse their own folly, and haply to know 
That the dregs of their cup are contention and woe, 
And, though bright are its foam-beads, coils darkly 
below 
The deadly and venomous adder. 

Drowsily rang the watchman's cry, 

" Past four o'clock, and a cloudy sky !" 

And came from afar, on the still air borne. 

The cock's shrill welcome to the morn ; 

But the Avorkcr of ill sat Avakeful still 

(If the saints don't watch, the sinners will), 

Keeping his vigils religiously ; 
And he winked and he blinked with a knowing look,. 
And from his cigar the ashes shook, 
Then letting it rest in his finger's crook, 
A sort of survey of his talents he took, 

And hugged himself prodigiously ; 
And 'twas easy to see by the gleam in his e3xs 
That he said to himself, '' 'Tis a pleasant surprise, 
in a world full of fools, to find one who is wise 
Like vu\ for example, who, come this or that. 
Knows what will turn up, and just what he is at." 

Then he spoke outright, with a chuckle low, 
*' Ho ! ho ! I know what a jolh' rum-go 
May be made out of fellows half-tipsy or so, 
Who, to all sorts of wheedling, can never say 'No!' 



The Rum Fiend, g 

How, at such mellow times, they will shell out their 

dimes, 
As if 'saving' were really 'the meanest of crimes.' 
And guzzle, egad ! till they're stupid or mad, 
Or their money is gone, or their credit is bad, 
Or the stuff has run out, and no more can be had. 
Now, here, let us see what the profits may be 
Of this night's debauch — ^not to them, but to me, 
For / always do well from a regular spree ; 
And the spree-ers — ha ! ha ! — but the country is free ! 
Six fives — and a ten — and another V — 
Eight ones — four twos — and a ragged three, 
Make — sixty-four — and a dollar more 
I have just set down to old Tippleton's score. 
Pretty good for one night ! And besides, it's so funn}- 
To hear, as they tipple my whiskey-made wine, 
The bibulous fools call it ' nectar divine,' 

And stutter its praises 

In all sorts of phrases. 
And all sorts of tones from a grunt to a whine. 
Well, 'tis good enough bait for such innocent tunny ; 
But the best joke of all is, that / get the money !" 

A laugh that had never a tone of mirth, 
And nothing of heaven and little of earth, 
From his thin lips slowly bubbled forth, 

Dr}^, bitter, and sardonic. 
Who heard it had thou^fht that he 2:rudo:ed to share 



lo The Riun Fiaid, 

His conscious greed with the tell-tale air, 
That the miser-plague, long nursed with care, 

And obstinately chronic. 
Had cankered his heart in every part 
Till it could not feel for another's smart. 
'Twas a fiendish chuckle, as if from within 
Laughed to each other the imps of sin 
To think of the souls they were sure to win 

Through the grog-shop's intervention ; 
While over Jiis face there came a sflow 
Very suggestive of — something below. 
Which neither of tis would care to know, 
And / do not care to mention. 

When that ghost of a laugh — I should say, its eclipse — 
That distorted had flitted away from his lips, 
And the lines of his face stiffened back, as of old, 
To their former expression, hard, stony, and cold. 
You could read in his features this creed : '* For 

myself 
I believe in one God, and his name is Pelf ! 
I believe in one worship — the worship of Pelf; 
And in tzvo, for that matter — of Pelf and of Self f' 
That was just what his face said ; and he, *' I have 

set 
For these very tame pigeons a very strong net. 
They are meshed, without doubt, and PU pluck th( m 

all yet. 



The R7tm Fiend. 1 1 

Why not ? 'Tis a duty to feather my nest 

When my chance is as good as the best of the best, 

And Providence smiles so benignly on me ; 

As for ' conscience ' — oh ! fol de rol ! fiddle deedee ! 



'' Of course, tJiey are simple — the fellows who come 
Night after night for a taste of ni}^ rum, 
Careless and easy, with lots of the ' tin.' 
Why, how they do tipple when once they begin ; 
And some hate to go out who could scarce be 

coaxed in. 
When they get to that point, I can do as I please. 
And squeeze 'em and turn 'em, and turn 'em and 

squeeze, 
Till the last drop of moisture — that's money — slides 

through 
Their fingers to mine, and I've done with the crew — ■ 
Done 'em brozvn, but they look most essentially blitc. 
Now, there's young Jerry Gump — what a rum 'un is 

he! 
And the Avay he takes juleps is pleasant to see, 
For the farm his wife brought him will soon come 

to me. 
She — the sweet little fool — when she gave him her 

hand, 
Said, ' Take with it bank-stock, and houses, and 

land.' 



12 TJic Ruin Fiend. 

Pie took them, and / will, as certain as fate, 
If he'll just go ahead at his present mad rate — 
And he sJiall — ^while there's juleps ! Reform is too 
late ! 

" Then there is my mortgage on Templeton's lot : 
'■ What a pity,' say some, ' that the fellow's a sot !' 
* AVhat a godsend,' say I ; in a fortnight or so 
I shall foreclose, and then out he must go. 
But zounds! won't his w^ife have 'a taking-on' 
When she hnds that their * pretty, sweet cottage' is 

gone ! 
Dropt into my pocket, from time to time. 
Dollar by dollar, and dime by dime ; 
How she ivill blubber, and snivel, and sigh ! 
But business is business, so what care I? 
I'd be a fool to abandon my prize 
For a few salt drops from a woman's eyes! 
'Tis a favorite trick with the precious dears 
On every occasion to pump up tears. 
Mothers and daughters, and sisters and wives 
Study hydraulics the most of their lives. 
And devote the rest of their nights and days 
To a thousand other bamboozling ways. 

'' Now, there's May Jones — by the way, old Jones 
Will soon be down on his marrow-bones ; 



The Riivi Fiend, 13 

lie has drunk up his cow — he has g'uzzled his pig— 
And swallowed in bumpers his horse and his gig- ; 
And to-night — ha ! ha ! — 'tis a capital joke — 
He pawned for Avhiskey his daughter's cloak, 
So I think the poor noodle is almost broke ; 
And after this week he must pay up his score, 
And throw down the cash if he gets any more, 
Or I'll boot him politely outside of my door. 

'■'■ Bill Gibson has murdered his boy, they say — 
A bright little lad — but his face was so sad 
That it made one doubt if he ever w^ere glad. 
He was here with his father but yesterday. 
And the poor boy was trying to coax him away, 
But the bloody old bloat w^as determined to stay. 
And he did, till at last he was tight as a fool, 
All rum and tobacco, and drivel and drool ; 
And when I rebuked him, 'Just stick to your trade, 
Said he, ' nor find fault with the tJnng 3'ou have made. 
You and your master are very nice chaps, 
But both may as well quit preaching, perhaps.' 

*' 'Twas a Christian virtue in me, no doubt, 
That I didn't kick the rascal out ; 
But I thought, on the whole, to be patient were wise, 
For he pays pretty roundly for all that he buys, 
And he buys rather largely, and so is a prize. 



14 TJic Rum Fiend. 

But, in spite of my meekness, some people have said 

That the poor boy's blood is on mv head ; 

That / made the father a madman and sot. 

Well, ma}' be I did, and may be not. 

For sure they can see, unless blind as a bat, 

That if / didn't sell he could buy of old Nat, 

And get equally tipsy on this or on that. 

]\Iy business is laivful, then who can object? 

INIy morals, ' the license ' declares, are correct. 

I ask, then, why sliould I abandon my trade 

While the statute sustains and a profit is made ? 

Besides, if I rightly the inference draw, 

The Gospel is with us as well as the law ; 

For didn't St. Timothy say to St. Paul, 

* Take a drop of old Bourbon — 'twouldn't hurt ye at 

all ' ? 
And the 'pos'les on Sundays went swigging of 

' corn ' ; 
And the Book says that ' Zadoc the priest took a 

horn ;' 
And Noah, just after he landed from sea, 
Disgusted with water, went off on a spree; 
And Lot, fresh from Sodom, belieyed it no sin 
To call for his gin at the yery first inn, 
To cheer up his spirits, his health to promote. 
And the odor of brimstone to clear from his throat. 
Such saintly examples, all gleaned from the Bible, 
Prove rum-sellino; ri^ht and the jNIaine Law a libel. 



The Ritin Fiend, 15 

People differ, of course, for I know some prodigious 

Hard drinkers who always, when drunk, are religious. 

Others act, I am sorr}^ to say, like the dickens. 

If only half-fuddled beneath their own roofs. 

Or here under mine, as I daily have proofs. 

But I say, as the ass did that danced with the chickens, 

' Every one for himself, and look out for my hoofs.' 

"■ But, as Satan hates water supposed to be holy, 

/ hate to be bothered and made melancholy 

By zvomcn, who haunt me with desolate looks 

And speeches, all learned from the temperance books ; 

With their wild, sad eyes so full of woe. 

That they make me think of the gulf below ; 

With sighs and sobs, or, it may be, worse, 

A frenzied oath or a muttered curse. 

That — ^jeer as I may — will leave a sore 

Which cankers my heart to its very core, 

Or as if, on the sensitive spirit alit, 

A spurt of fire from the depths of the pit. 

'' They come, these women, with bitter tongues. 
And stories of sorrow, and care, and wrongs. 
Sometimes with children not overly clean. 
Barefooted, bareheaded, ragged, and lean ; 
Sometimes with faces as pale as the dead's. 
With garments all faded and worn into shreds, 
And ' YoiL did it !' they say ; ' 'twas the work of 3^our 
rinn /' 



1 6 TJic Rum Fiend. 

And ' Give me my husband !' and ' Give me my home !' 
Cries one and another, till, what with abuse, 
Sobs, curses, and so forth, all Bedlam- seems loose, 
And I, as a friend of good order and peace, 
INIust Jiusilc them out or eall in the police. 

*' I don't dislike women ; true feminine Sfrace, 
Sweet voice and sweet temper, a beautiful face, 
Good health, and all that — 'tis a very clear case 
That a woman with these things is good /;/ her plaee ; 
But her place isn't Jiere, nor in public at all 
(Except at the playhouse, at church, or a ball). 
St. Paul thinks as / do — a sound man was Paul — ■ 
And lie sa3'S, ' The women are bound to be dumb. 
Or, if they ivill talk, do their talking at home!' 
Ah ! he knew what was what in the way of propriet}'. 
And scorned from his heart the cold-water societ}^ ; 
Believed 'Woman's Rights' all a humbug and flam, 
And preachers in petticoats not worth a dram. 

'' This is no suitable place, I am sure, 

For a woman to come who is modest and pure ; 

Rather free talkers my customers be, 

And sometimes — ha ! ha I — wh}', they shock even me ! 

Wife keeps away ; and other men's spouses, 

/ think, and Paul thinks, should stick to their houses. 

Cook, scrub, and attend to such inner-door cares, 

And not intermeddle with people's affairs, 

Who care not a copper for them or for theirs. 



The Rttm Fiend, 17 

*' Guess men are free agents — they come and they go, 
And it isn't for me to say ay, yes, or no ; 
As for turning a half-tipsy patron away 
While he wishes for more and has money to pay. 
Perhaps, when I'm rich as old Astor, I may, 
But that, I am sure, will not happen to-day, 
To-morrow, next month, nor the month nor the year 
That comes after that, for my conscience is clear, 
And business is business. He! he! he! he!" 
And he rubbed his hands in demoniac glee. 
''Many a lark I have caught in my net; 
I have them safe, and I'll pluck them yet." 

^' He ! he ! he ! he !" 'Twas a mocking sound. 
That well might the grog-seller's soul astound. 
Did it come from the air ? Did it come from the 

ground ? 
Whence was it ? What was it ? He looked around 

In a terrible perturbation. 
This side and that through the smoke peered he ; 
Behind and before, from ceiling to floor. 
From the innermost wall to the outermost door, 
But naught but the chairs could the grog-seller see, 
A few broken bottles, and other debris, 
The tokens still left of a roystering spree 

Or a drunken jollification. 
''Ho! ho! ha! ha!" With a guttural note 
It seemed to come from an iron throat. 



1 8 The Rum Ficiid. 

But, whatever its source, it was harsh and hoarse, 
With a smack of diablerie in it, of course. 
And the grog-seller's knees grew weak by de- 
grees. 
And a dread like Belshazzar's his vitals did freeze, 
While his eyes, in their straining, wide-open re- 
maining 
(That horror enchaining), glared wildly and big, 

And, I dare to declare, 

That each separate hair 
Would have stood up on end had he not worn a wig ! 



For, lo ! in a corner dark and dim, 

Stood an uncouth form with an aspect grim, 

Glowering and grinning by turns at him 

Like a monkey griped by colic. 
From his grizzly head, through his snaky hair, 
Sprouted of hard, rough horns a pair. 
And there was a something in his air 

Which might mean a fight or a frolic ; 
For his smiles and his frowns would come and go. 
And redly his shaggy brows below, 
Like sulphurous flames, did his small eyes glow. 
And his lips were curled with a sinister smile 
Expressive of triumph, and mocking, and guile. 
And the smoke belched forth from his mouth the 
while 

With a smell most diabolic. 



The Rum Fiend. 19 

Dark was his forehead, and rugged and scarred, 
As if by the stroke of the lightning marred, 
Whose fire had burned to the very brain, 
Leaving its record of ceaseless pain ; 
And 3'et, from that torture had been born 
Something of triumph and something of scorn ; 
A will to hate, a courage to dare, 
A power all forms of ill to bear. 
And a wild, fierce wrestling with despair. 

In the furrowed lines of that ruthless face 
All evil passions had left their trace. 
With never a noble thought to throw 
A soft'ning shade o'er their fiery glow ; 
With never a gleam of love to streak 
The lurid gloom of the burning cheek ; 
But every muscle and fibre told 
Of a reckless spirit, bad and bold. 

Folded and buttoned around his breast 

Was a quaint and silvery-gleaming vest, 

Asbestos, it seemed, but 'tis only guessed 

Why he in a fire-proof garb was drest. 

Perhaps there were reasons that made it the best. 

Such as comfort, or cheapness, or this (with the rest), 

It might, in his countr3^ to fashion be due 

(But that's nothing to vie, and I hope not to you, 

So we needn't be anxious to know if 'tis true). 



20 The Rum Fiend. 

Breeches he wore of a brimstone hue, 

From the rear of which a tail peeped through. 

His feet were shaped like a bullock's hoof, 

And the boots he wore were caloric proof. 

From a monster like that one had best keep aloof, 

Nor bed with nor board with beneath the same roof. 

In his hand he bore — if a hand it was. 

Whose fingers were shaped like a vulture's claws — 

A trident, whose prongs, long, jagged, and dull, 

Through the sockets were thrust of a grinning skull ; 

Like a sceptre he waved it to and fro. 

As he softly chuckled, '' Ha ! ha ! ho ! ho !" 

And all the while were his eyes, that burned 

Like sulphurous flames, on the grog-seller turned. 

There were hates and scorns, there were cunning 

and lies. 
In the curl of the lip and the glare of the eyes ; 
And that long-fixed gaze, oh ! the grog-seller knew, 
It had more of meaning than met his view. 
And the chuckling voice that filled the room, 
And added gloom to the deep'ning gloom. 
To the sfroof-seller's ear was the voice of doom. 
Despair and horror were in his look. 
And his cushioned bones to their marrow shook. 
While his shuddering gaze to that monster clung, 
And a fetter, like palsy, was on his tongue. 
But the fiend laughed on, " Ho ! ho ! he ! he !" 
And swished his tail in his quiet glee. 



The Ruin Fiend, 21 

The fiend laughed on, *' Ha ! ha ! ho ! ho !" 
And ever the skull waved to and fro. 

Then nodding the horns on his grizzly head, 
*^ Why, what is the matter, my friend ?" he said. 
'■' There surely is nothing in vie to dread, 

That 3^our breath you thus should smother. 
We have known each other so long and well, 
That I love you more than I care to tell — 

In fact, I may call you my brother. 
Besides — to your zeal this praise is due — 
Of all my imps there are few — too few — 
That do their tasks with a relish like you. 

An appetite for evil ; 
So, unannounced, I have come from — well, 
Perhaps on the whole I had better not tell. 
But an //, and an e, and an /, and an /, 
Will suggest to your nostrils a sulphurous smell. 

And bring to your mind the devil." 

Like a galvanized corpse, so pallid and wan. 
Up started instanter that horror-struck man. 
And he turned up the whites of his goggle eyes 
With a look half-terror and half-surprise, 
Like an urchin who sees a hobgoblin arise 

From the church-yard's fresh-heap'd mound ; 
And his tongue was loosed, but his words were few. 
"The— what? Yoa don't—" "Yes; faith I do f' 



2 2 The Riwi Fiend. 

Interrupted Old Nick; ''and you'll see that 'tis true. 

(He turned him half-way round, 
And brought his caudal appendage to view, 
With its stripes alternate of red and blue 

On a sort of neutral ground.) 
'' Do you ask, old crony, for further proofs ? 
Just twig my terminal, tread on my hoofs. 
And feel of my horns, for — I say it with pride — 
They are not like yoicrs, but bony-fied ; 

To the very centre sound. 

'' Having come from a warmer clime below 
To chat with a friend for an hour or so, 
And to help my minions, before I go. 
To make this world like the world of woe, 

In sorrow and sin its brother, 
And the night being somewhat chill, I think 
It were simple politeness to ask me to drink, 
As the grog-sellers do, without stopping to wink, 
Who have gone from one pit — they had not far to sink- 
To set up their shops in another. 
These upper-world breezes I find rather rough. 
And somehow my climate don't render me tough, 
So bring me a bumper of double-proof stuff. 
Sweetened with brimstone ; a quart is enough 

For a moderate imbibition. 
Stir up the mess in an iron cup, 
And heat by the fire till it bubbles up, 



The Rtcm Fiend. 

And the hot foam hisses over the top; 

For such is the draught of perdition." 

As the foul imp bade, so the grog-selicr did, 
Fining a flagon with rum to the lid, 

With scrupulous circumspection. 
And, when it boiled and bubbled o'er, 
The liquid fire to his guest he bore 

With many a genuflexion. 
Nick in a jiffy the hquor did quaff, 
And thanked his host with guttural laugh ; 
But faint and few were the smiles, I ween. 
That on the grog-seller's face were seen 

To lighten its deep dejection. 

For a mortal fear was on him then, 

And he deemed that the ways of living men 

Should never by him be trodden again ; 

That the doom-hour, dark and dismal, 
Delayed so long, in terror had come. 
And his master, too, to call him home. 
Where sulphurous clouds, impervious, dome 

A region of fire abysmal. 

His thought went back to the darkened past, 
And he heard wild shrieks on the wintry blast. 
And curses were muttered fierce and fast, 
Till the soul of the wretch was all aghast 
By torturing memories haunted ; 



24 The RuDi Fioid. 

And gliding" before him, pale and dim, 
"Were gibbering fiends and spectres grim, 
Who leered with their dead-cold eyes on him, 
Till his brain in agony seemed to swim, 
And his blood grew chill with a sense of ill. 
Fluttered his pulse, and his heart stood still, 
By a nameless terror daunted. 

Listen to me, as I strive to tell 

A part of the vision that then befell. 

There was one whose maniac eyes did glare 
Throusfh the tano:led veil of his matted hair, 
And he gnawed his tongue in his fierce despair. 
And howled a curse, or muttered a prayer. 

Whose sad refrain was ever, 
''Blood! blood I It foams in the cursed bowl! 
It is on my hands! It stains my soul! 

It crimsons the sky 

With its terrible dye, 
And the earth which drank it cries, ' More ! Give 



Mv thirst for the vintage of murder is sore. 

Let it flow — let it swell to a river!'" 
Then, in accents soft and low, 
jNIurmured he his tale of woe : 
'' Did I slay thee, dearest wdfe ? 
Thee ? — oh ! better loved than life — 



TJie Riun Ficjid. 25 

Thee, whose smile was like the light 

Flashing- o'er my being's night, 

Making what was dark and dull 

Beautiful — how beautiful ! 

Thee, whose voice was like a bird's, 

Musical with lovins: words ; 

And whose heart poured out for me 

Love, exhaustless as the sea, 

Fresh as Eden's morning air. 

Guileless as a seraph's pra3"er, 

Pure as is the purest gem 

In the New Jerusalem ! 

Did / slay thee? Nay; though mine 

Was the hand that dealt the blow, 
'Twas the fiend that in the wine 

Lurks that wrought this utter woe ! 
Curses on the wretch who gave 
Me the draught, and thee a grave !" 

Backward the thought of the grog-seller ran, 
And a voice in his soul whispered, *' Thou art the 
mail /" 

Listen to me, and I will tell 

More of the vision that then befell. 

A form lay stiff in the wintry sleet, 

And the winds were weaving his winding-sheet, 



26 TJic RiiDi Fioid, 

And the dull, dead eyes, with a frozen stare, 

Looked up at the sky in their still despair. 

In his nerveless hand was a bottle filled 

With the draught by an evil greed distilled — 

The liquid death that had doubly killed. 

And this — how it makes the demon laugh ! — 

Was his monument and epitaph. 

But close at hand, in that hovel old, 

Which the fierce blast shakes as it sweeps the wold, 

A mother and daughter sat hungry and cold. 

They watch and wait for the perished sire 

With the promised boon of food and fire. 

Since earl}^ morn he has been avv'ay — 

How creep the hours I — how long the day 

To those who arc left to weep and pray ! 

Through the frosty air and the blinding snow, 

With the few coins earned by the toiling wife. 

He sought the bread that should nourish life. 

He found the cup that is drugged with woe — 

Drank deep — and wife, and child, and cot, 

On the bleak, wild moor, were all forgot. 

Wearily, hour by hour, the day. 

Freighted with sorrow, wears away ; 

The night glooms down on that suffering pair, 

With its howlino- storms and its frosted air — 

How dark ! how dread I — to their despair ! 

Clasped in each other's arms they lie, 

While the nisfht-wind shrieks their lullabv, 



The Rum Fiend. 27 

And the faint lid droops o'er the glazing eye, 

And over their senses the languors creep 

Of a sleep that lapses to more than sleep. 

What now are hunsfcr and cold to them ? 

Or the storm that chants their requiem ? 

The dim, gray morning comes again. 

But they shall wake no more to pain. 

The strife is over ; their terrors and woes 

Are hushed to endless, deep repose. 

Ay, tJicirs the peace ; but whose the crime 

That sent the father before his time. 

With his soul all stained and his sins unshriven. 

To the drunkard's doom — no Iwpe, no Jieaven — 

And that left the mother and child to die 

Of famine, and frost, and misery ? 

Backward the thought of the grog-seller ran, 

And a voice in his ear whispered, " TJioii art iJie 

man /" 

Listen to mc, and I will tell 

Yet more of the vision that then befell. 

Through the rusted grates of a prison-door, 
Handcuffed and chained to the granite floor^ 
With granite walls around and o'er. 
He saw on the damp straw lying 



28 The Rum Fic7id. 

A drunken father, whose hands were red 
With the blood of his boy in madness shed. 
And he muttered, " Dead I ha ! ha ! he's dead ! 

'Tis a capital joke — his dying I 
What a shriek he gave, for a child so small, 
When his thin skull crashed on the garden wall, 
And the brains gushed out with a crimson jet I 
So the fiend is dead. Risrht well I know 
'Twas not my boy ; but a fiend below 
Who had taken his form, that, unawares, 
He might catch us all in his eyil snares ; 
And I said to myself, ' I will baffle him yet !' 
So, watching and waiting, at last I heard, 
As the eyil one, in the boy's disguise, 
Came bounding to me with laughing eyes 
And arms outstretched — God gaye the word, 
' Kill — kill the deyil I' and it was done, 
Though he called ' Papa,' and sccnicd my son — 
A good joke that — but I spoiled his fun 
When I dashed his head on the flinty stone." 
While thus, with his hot brain crazed by rum, 
He babbled his strange delirium, 
Hard by in a hut was a woman, pale 
With anguish and fasting, whose bitter wail 
Freighted with dolor the midnight gale, 

As she bent in helpless sorrow 
Oyer a child-corpse, still and fair, 
With the blood-stain on his golden hair, 



The Riuii Fie lid. 29 

And his blue eyes filmed, but still astare, 

Fixed in a motionless horror. 
There were no tears in the mother's eye ; 
Her hueless cheek was hot and dry ; 
But, oh ! how deep was her agony 
As she sat there with her dead alone. 
And now with a low and bitter moan. 
And now with a shriek whose piercing tone 
Was the knell of peace for ever flown, 
She murmured over and over again, 
These words so full of woe and pain, 
^^ ]\Iy murdered hoy ! My murdered hoy !'' 

With him hath perished her whole of joy ; 
And the world henceforth is dark to her, 
And 3'et not long, for ere rain and sun 
Have greened the grave of her beautiful one, 
She shall rest bv his side in the shade of the fir. 



A maddened father — a murdered child — 
A desolate mother with anguish wild — 
Crime, wrons:, and woe, exceedin": thouirht, 
Whose hand hath the threefold ruin wrought ? 



Backward the thought of the grog-seller ran, 
And a voice in his soul whispered, '' Thou art the 
man /" 



30 TJie Riini Fie^id. 

Listen to me, and I Avill tell 

Still more of the vision that then befell. 

In a gorgeous room, where the rich brocade 
Threw over the walls a softened shade, 
A youth on a crimson couch was laid, 

But not in peaceful dreaming ; 
For the hot blood throbbed through every vein, 
And the fires of madness scorched his brain. 
And phantom fiends, a ghastly train. 

With every loathly seeming. 
Grotesque, and foul, and horrible forms. 
Came crowding in pairs — in flocks— in swarms — 
With laughters and curses, and taunts and jeers, 
To torture his soul and to deafen his cars. 
Till every wave of the pulsing air 

He deemed was stirred 

By a single word 
Reiterant ever — ''Despair! despair!'' 
By his side a good man knelt to pray, 
And strove to lure his soul away 
From its fancies dark to the hope of heaven ; 
But, still to his every word of pra3'er 
Some imp would mutter, ''Despair! despair!'' 
And the wretch gasped faintly : " Too late ! too late ! 
I have wooed, so leave me to wed my fate — 
Bereft of hope and reprobate. 

To die unshrined and unforgiven!" 



The Rum Fiend. 

" Nay," said the man of God. '' His grace 
Exceeds our guilt ; none seek his face 
Through penitence and prayer in vain." 
From his couch the maniac leaped, his hand 
Stretched with a gesture of command, 
And with a hoarse voice, whose intense 
Yet fierce and passionate eloquence 
Thrilled throus^-h the hearer's heart and brain, 
While the beaded sweat on his forehead stood. 
And the foam on his lips was tinged with blood. 
He said, in his wild, despairing mood : 

*' Vex me no more with idle prayer ! 

For other ears your sermons keep ! 
I know the whole of hell's despair — ■ 

Through all my veins its horrors creep ! 
I stand within its burning caves. 

Beyond the reach of Mercy's call, 
And hear the dash of fiery waves 

Against its adamantine wall ! 

** Ha ! how they seethe, and hiss, and roar! 

What sobs, and shrieks, and ang^uish cries 
Swell up and make the lava shore 

Articulate with agonies ! 
How all the roaring gulf is crammed ! 

How the red fire-snake gnaws and gnaws, 
And fold on fold coils round the damned. 

Who howl beneath its crushing jaws ! 



32 The Rum Fiend, 

" See ! swarming up in countless crowds, 

Fiends, foul with all pollutions, rise; 
The dead, too, in their rotting shrouds, 

Leer at me with their stony eyes ! 
Upon their bones the black flesh creeps, - 

Stirred by the crawling life beneath. 
Ha ! ha ! the dainty grave-worm keeps 

His lev^el in the halls of Death ! 

'Off! off! O God! how close they press 
The blue lips of the dead to mine ! — 

A skeleton's abhorred caress. 
Off, devil ! I will not be thine ! 

They come — they swarm — they fill the room- 
All shapes of horror throng the air ! 

I stifle in the deep'ning gloom — 
Ah ! this is hell and hell's despair! 

" In vain from side to side I turn ; 

Fiends, fleshless forms, and tortured souls 
Howl, grin, and shriek, and fierce eyes burn 

Into mv brain like livins; coals ! 
See ! how the snakes around me cling, 

Slimy and foul, with loathed embrace. 
My flesh to pierce with fang and sting, 

And hiss their venom in my face ! 

"Dark — dark — why, I am dead! I hear 
The sods upon my coffin fall. 



The Ru7n Fiend. 33 

They cease; and now how still and drear 
The grave will — faugh! I feel the crawl 

Of the cold worms — across and through 
My flesh they crc/Cp — and creep — and still 

Feast as they go ! I never knew 

Such horror even the lost could thrill. 

" Away ! How roars that sea of flame I 

How, on its surges, writhe and toss 
The old companions of my shame — 

Henceforth companions of my loss ! 
Howl ! curse ! blaspheme ! ye tortured souls ! 

With God nor fiend will prayer avail ; 
Breast the hot wave that o'er you rolls, 

And swell its storm-crest with your wail ! 

" Once riot and delirious mirth 

Crowned the wild revel of desire, 
Now shames and agonies come forth 

To hunt, like hounds, their wretched sire. 
Once how we mingled jest and song ! 

Now groan, and shriek, and fiendish yell 
Rise and reverberate along 

The chambers of profoundest hell ! 

" O endless woe ! O ceaseless strife ! 

O deathless death ! — the sentient soul 
Cheated of everlasting life 

By the foul demon of the bowl ! 



34 ^/^^ Rum Fiend. 

Such gifts arc thine, thou mocker, wine — 
The fierce despair, the deep'ning gloom, 

The horror, and the hate malign, 

The fear, the torture, and the doom !" 

Exhausted by his passion's storm, 

Down sank the maniac drunkard's form. 

A sob — a shiver — see ! despair 

Is in the eyeballs' settled glare. 

Oh ! veil the face, for death is there. 

When inquisition He makes for blood, 

Who, of earth's gathered multitude. 

Shall be found with the price of the victim slain. 

And on his srarment the murder-stain? 



Backward the thought of the grog-seller ran. 

And a voice in his soul whispered, '* TJiou art the 



mail J 



/" 



And other phantoms, some sad and pale, 
Some bloody and fierce, with a voice of wail. 
Now soft as the zephyr, now hoarse as the gale. 

Swept by in sad procession ; 
Each pointing a finger at him as it passed. 
Each muttering *' So ! we have met you at last ! 
And vengeance shall come with the speed of the blast, 
And press like a sleuth-hound, unerring and fast, 

Evermore on the track of transgression." 



The Rum Fiend. 35 

No wonder the blood in his veins ran chill ; 

That his tongue no longer obe3'cd his will ; 

That his weak knees smote and his heart stood still 

Before that awful vision. 
But his grim guest laughed with a cold, dry laugh, 
One-half of scorn, and of triumph half, 
And muttered a word that was much like '' Calf I'' 

In a tone that was much like derision. 
Then said: *' Ho ! ho! 'tis a welcome cold 
You give to a friend so true and old. 
Who has been for a score of 3^ears or more 
(Though now the fact you would fain ignore) 

Your counsellor and crony ; 
And loaded your counters with numberless shams, 
And diddled your victims with plausible flams, 
And who never to scruples has sacrificed drams 
Nor cared for your customers' wrath two grammes 

So long as they brought you their money. 
But we'll not disagree, for 'tis easy to see 
(Though not to account for) you tremble at mc, 

x\nd are struck with a terrible dizziness. 
Do you think I have come for 3'ou ? Never fear ! 
You can't be spared for a long while here. 
And I'm not so green as to interfere 

With the chap who is doing my business. 

" There are hearts to break ; there are souls to Avin 
From the ways of peace to the paths of sin ; 



36 The Riiin Fiend. 



There are homes to be rendered desolate ; 
There is trusting" love to be changed to hate, 

And joy to be dimmed by sadness. 
There are hands that murder must render red, 
Hopes to be blasted, and blight to be shed 
Over the young, and the pure, and fair, 
Till their lives are darkened by despair. 

Or linked to a cureless madness. 



'' This is the work you have done so well — 
Cursing the earth with a curse more fell 

Than war, or famine, or pest ; 
Quenching the liht on the inner shrine 
Of the human soul, till the spark divine 
FUckers and dies, and the rest is mine. 

Scourged more than my evil best. 
Want and sorrow, disease and shame. 
And crimes which even / shudder to name. 
To which arson, and murder, and rape are tame. 

You send on their awful mission. 
And the ' pain'dedst fiend ' laughs loud to see 
How they dance and howl in their horrid glee 
Around the spirits you've marked for me — 

The harvest of perdition. 

*' Oh ! selling of rum is the best device 
To make Gehenna of Paradise. 



The Kum Fiend, 2>7 

Wherever may roll the fiery flood, 

It is swollen with tears, it is crested with blood, 

And with wrecks — how numberless ! — laden. 
The voice that was heard erewhile in prayer, 
With its muttered curses stirs the air, 
And the hand once prompt to shield from ill, 
In its drunken wrath is raised to kill 

Or wife, or sire, or maiden. 

*' Hold on your course ! You are filling up 

With the wine of the wrath of God your cup : 

And not till that cup is overbrimmed 

Shall the light of life for you be dimmed. 

The fiends exult in their home below, 

As you deepen the pangs of human woe, 

And sow broadcast through every clime 

The seeds whose fruitao;-e is shame and crime. 

Oh! long will it be, if I have my way. 

Ere the night of death shall close your day, 

For, to pamper your lust of the glittering pelf, 

You fairly outdevil the devil himself." 

No more said the fiend, for clear and high 
Rang out on the air the watchman's cry, 

"Past five, and a cloudy morning!" 
With a choking sob and a stifled scream, 
The grog-seller waked — it was all a dream. 
But so true to the Ufe, that he well might deem 

That it came with a woe or a warninof. 



2,^ The Ritni Fiend, 



His grizzly guest with the horns had flown ; 

His lamp was out, and his fire had gone ; 

And dubious still if he were alone, 

If this were his shop or a vaulted tomb, 

He peered through the gloom of the dingy room ; 

But he heard no voice of a coming doom, 

Nor the mingled sounds of laughter and groan, 

Nor the clatter of bone with its kindred bone 

As skeleton walks with skeleton. 

And he saw no imp, save an ill-favored elf 

Who stared from the mirror that stood on the shelf, 

Still stared, at his staring, point-blank On himself; 

But the face Avas a coward's, all ghastly with fear. 

And a mean face, too, though it seemed rather queer, 

As if somewhere and somehow, on sea or on shore, 

He had seen either it or its brother before. 

'' No matter," he muttered, and soothing his head. 

** At least, I am here out of Tophet," he said. 

"But the vision — the dream — ha! is it a dream? 

What means it?" And sadly he went to his bed; 

But no Sleep with her cup from the Lethean stream 

Bent over him there — he was restless with dread ! 



. DASH THE WINE-CUP AWAY! 

Dash the wine-cup away 1 though its sparkle should 

be 
More bright than the gems that lie hid in the sea ; 
For a siren, unseen by thine eyes, lurketh there, 
Who would lure thee through pleasure to woe and 

despair. 

Some who once walked with 7is with untremulous feet 
Have yielded their souls to that lovely deceit. 
And, forfeiting honor and manhood, have died. 
In the glow of their youth and the flush of their pride. 

And others still linger to darken a name 
Once brightened with love, but now wedded to shame ; 
Poor tempest-tost wrecks on the ocean of woes, 
The grief of their friends and the scorn of their foes. 

Wherever the cup of confusion is poured, 
In the cellar of want or at luxury's board — 
From palace and cottage, from hovel and hall, 
A wail goeth up to the Father of all! 



40 Dash the Winc-Ciip Azuay / 

Then rally ! then rally ! ye wise and ye good, 
Come up in your strength, and roll back the dark flood 
Ere your treasures are wrecked in its desolate path, 
As it sweeps o'er your homes in its terror and wrath — 

Ere the woe shall be 3^ours which smote Ephraim 

of old. 
And our glory shall be like a tale that is told, 
And the w^olf, coming back to our cities, shall howl 
To the mournfuler cry of the bittern and owl ! 



THE DEMON OF INTEMPERANCE. 

My native land ! amid th}' cabin homes, 
Amid thy palaces, a demon roams: 
Frenzied with rage, yet subtle in his wrath, 
He crushes thousands in his fiery path ; 
Stalks through our cities unabashed, and throws 
Into the cup of sorrow bitterer woes ; 
Gives to the pangs of grief an added smart, 
With keenest anguish wrings the breaking heart, 
Drags the proud spirit from its envied height, 
And breathes on fondest hopes a killing blight ; 
Heralds the shroud, the cofhn, and the pall. 
And the grave thickens where his footsteps fall! 

Ho for the rescue ! 3X whose eyes have seen 
The ruin wrought where Drunkenness hath been 
Ye who have gazed upon the speechless grief 
Of early widowhood that mocked relief — 
Ye who have heard the orphan's struggling sigh, 
When, mad with agony, he prayed to die — 



42 The Demon of Intemperance, 

Ye who have marked the crimes and shames that 

throng, 
Like sateless fiends, the drunkard's way along — 
Ye who can tell his everlasting doom 
When darkly over him shall close the tomb. 
Up for the conflict ! let your battle-peal 
Ring on the air as rings the clash of steel ; 
When, rank to rank, contending armies meet, 
Trampling the dead beneath their bloody feet ! 
Up! ye are bidden to a nobler strife. 
Not to destroy, but rescue human life ; 
No added drop on misery's cup to press, 
But minister relief to wickedness ; 
To give the long-lost father to his boy — 
To cause the widow's heart to sing for joy — 
Bid plenty laugh where hungry fLimine howls, 
And pour the sunlight o'er the tempest's scowls — 
Bring to the soul that to despair is given 
A new-found joy — a holy hope of heaven ! 



HYMN OF THE REFORMED. 

Captives to sin and sunk in shame, 

To all a loathing and a pest, 
With shattered health and blighted name, 

Alike iinblessing and unblessed ; 
Demons who made our homes a hell, 

Where passions howled, like fiends below, 
Where all the crimes and shames that swell 

The catalogue of human woe ; 

Such were we — and could men be worse ? 

Friends from our pathway turned aside, 
Foes muttered in our ear their curse, 

And children saw us to deride ! 
Before us yawned the drunkard's grave, 

Curtained in midnight's starless gloom : 
Who from its greedy jaws could save. 

Who snatch us from the drunkard's doom ? 

Such were we — victims of despair ! 

For Hope, with folded wing, had died ; 



44 Hymn of the Rcfonned, 

Hell moved to meet us, and the air 
Quivered the shouts of fiends, who cried : 

" Ah ! ha ! and have ye fallen thus ? 
Ye who exulted in your strength. 

Hurled from your heights, have ye, like us, 
Become the spoiler's prey at length ?" 

But this is past. The woe, the tears, 

The fiery weight on heart and brain, 
The anguish and the shame of years — 

Only their memory doth remain ! 
The serpent's bite, the adder's sting, 

Pass with the poison-cup away ; 
And waters bubbling from the spring, 

Sparkling and pure, our thirst allay. 

Lord God of Hosts! to thee belong 

Thanksgiving and the voice of praise ; 
Thine eye beheld, thine arm was strong 

The drunkard from the pit to raise ! 
Saved from our vice, to life restored. 

To home, to wives, to children given. 
We praise thee for thy goodness, Lord ! 

And pray, Oh ! lead us to thy heaven. 



THE BARDS OF BACCHUS. 

Thev may sing of the joys in the wine-cup that dwell, 
And in music the raptures of drunkenness tell, 
And over the filth of debauchery throw 
The splendor of genius to cover their woe; 
Believe not their tale, nor the falsehood repeat, 
Thousrh the lie be in verse and its music most sweet. 
From the song that's inspired by a bottle of wine, 
Though 'tis sung by Love's lips, turn away, brother 
mine. 

Do they think, when they babble of pleasures that 

spring 
From the vintage-crowned bowl, that we know not 

the sting 
Of the serpent that hides in the beaker, though bright, 
Is the sparkle that plays round its brim, like the light? 
Do they tell of the fevers, the headaches, that, born 
Of the midnight's excess, crown the debaucher's morn? 
Of the pockets collapsed? of the rubicund nose? 
Of the rheum in the eyes? and the gout in the toes? 



46 The Bards of Bacchus, 

Not they — precious souls! it would ruin the verse; 
And why should they make what is bad enough 

worse ? 
It would topsy-turvy a cart-load of rhyme, 
And convict them of sense^ which, in such bards, is 

crime ; 
Lewd songs and lewd singing, alas! would be o'er; 
Nor gin-guzzling Byron, nor wine-bibbing Moore, 
Be held up as patterns for bardlings who think 
That the fountain of songs is a can of strong drink ! 

Let them sing what they list — let live as they will, 
And worship old Bacchus and guzzle his swill ; 
And dream, if they can, that the joy which they find 
In the madd'ning debauch is a balm to the mind 
The}^ may cheat their own souls with their songs and 

their lies, 
But the boys of the Pledge, they have ears and have 

eyes — 
By the wine-cup untempted, tJieir song shall still be, 
" TJie Fountain shall furnish the Drink of the Free ! " 



THE TEMPERANCE SPEAKER. 



This is a new book o{ Speeches, Dialogues, and Recitations in Prose 
and Poetry, designed for all Temperance Organizations, Bands of Hope, 
Sabbath and Day Schools, from the pens of the best Temperance writers in 
America. jSmo. 288 pages. Edited by j. N. Stearns Articles, Dia- 
logues, and Addresses are given from Rev. T. L. Cuyler, D.D., Horace 
Greeley. George W. Bungay, Charles Jewett- John B. Gough, George S. 
Burleigh, Rev William M. Thayer, Miss Mary Dwineli Chellis, William 
H. Burleigh. John Pierrepont, Stella, Rev. Newman Hall, Rev. George L. 
Tavlor. Rev. Peter Stryker D.D., Rev. J. B. Dunn. Edward Carswell, Hon. 
Neal Dow, John W. Kirton. T. W. Brown. Rev. Albert Barnes, J. G. Saxe, 
Charles Mackay, and many others. 

It contains Twenty-three Dialogues, suitable for a variety ot occasions ; 
Thirty-five Speeches or Recitations in Prose, and nearly Ninety in Poetry ; 
containing vital Temperance truths and appeals, which should be committed 
to memory and spoken in every School, Division, Lodge, Temple, or Pub- 
lic Meeting in the Land. 

Entertainment and instruction for many an entire evening, under the 
head of " The Good of the Order," can be found in this valuable work. 
Every article is suitable for Recitation, containing a vast amount of Tempe- 
rance instruction, as well as a sound education upon any phase of the 
movement. The book should be placed in every library and family in 
America. 

Price 75 cents. Sent by mail on receipt of price. 



]^£W ^EMPERANCE J)iy\LOqUE^, 



The First Glass; or. The JPoiver of Woman^s Influence, 

The Young Teetotaler ; or, Saved at Last, 15 cents for both; 
$1 50 per dozen. 

Heclainied; or, The Danger of 3Ioderate Drinking. 10 centsj 
$1 per dozen. 

Marry no 3Ian if lie Drinks; or, Laura's Plan, and How 
it Succeeded, 10 cents ; $1 per dozen. 

Which Will You Choose? 36 pp. By Miss Mary Dwinell Chel- 
lis. 15 cents* $1 50 per dozen. 

Address J. N. STEAENS, PublisHng Agent, 

58 Meade Street, New York, 



Band of Hope Manual. Per doz., 

This valuable work contains directions how to fonn Bands of Hope, with 
Constitution for the same, and a Band of Hope Ritual for the admission of New 
Members, Opening and Closinj? Ceremonies, toq^ether with Dialogues, Reci- 
tations, Hymns, etc., which make it the most complete Manual ever published. 

Temperance CatecMsm. Per doz. 

A new book of exercises for Bands of Hope and Juvenile Societies, Avhich 
will be found to contain much valuable and interesting matter for the children 
to learn and recite at their regular meetings. 

It consists of a series of questions and answers upon the Origin and His- 
tory of Temperance Societies, Nature of Intoxicating Drinks, Fermentation, 
Distillation, Brewing, Wines of Scripture, Statistics, Tobacco, Profanity, Tau- 
perance Definition, etc. 

Band of Hope Melodies. Paper, 

Containing fifty pages of songs with music, adapted to Bands of Hope, Ju- 
venile Temperance Societies, etc. 

Band of Hope Badge. Enameled, $1 25 per dozen ; 12 cents 
singly. Plain, $1 per dozen: 10 cents 
singl}'. Plain and Enameled, 50 cents each. 



A new Badge for all Members of Bands of Hope to 
wear has been designed, and we are now prepared to 
supply orders for the same. It consists of a six-pointed 
star, with an anchor engraved within a cross, which 
may be worn by all members of the band as a sign of 
recognition. It signifies Faith, Hope, and Light. A 
very good representation of it is given in the picture. 



Certificate of Membership. S3 per hundred. Large size, $4 
per hundred. 

$3 per hundred, 
and Certificate combined, in colors, $4 per 
hundred. 




Illustrated Pledge. 



Juvenile Temperance Speaker, 



A new edition of the " Temperance Speaker," for Bands of Hope, Cadets 
of Temperance, and other Juvenile Temperance Organizations has been is- 
sued, and will be found a valuable aid in making the meetings of such organ- 
izations interesting and entertaining. 

Illuminated Temperance Cards. Set of ten, .... 

A new series of Lithograph Temperance Cards, with short verses, beau- 
tifully illustrated, printed iu gold, admirably adapted for children and Sunday 
schools. 



Address 



J. N. STEAENS, Publisliing Agent, 



S8 Meade Street, New Tori 






The Rum Fiend, 






AiVD OTHER FOB MS. 



BY 



WILLIAM H. BURLEIGH 



New York: 

National Temperance Society and Publication House, 

58 READE STREET. 

1871. 






I 



•^ 



# 















%f 






The National Temperance Society are publishing a series ( 
Sermons upon various phases of the Temperance Question, by som 
of the leading clergymen in America. The following are alread 
published : 

Common Sense for Young Men. By Rev. 

Henry Ward P>eecher, $o i 

Moral Duty of Total Abstinence. By Rev. 

T. L. Cuyler, , 

The Evil Beasl. By Rev. T. De Wm rnhna-e, - 

The Good Samaritan. By Rev. J. B. Uunn. . i 

The following, among others, have been solicited to preacl 
and furnish the sermons for publication : Rev. John Hall, Ne 
York; Rev. C. D. Foss, New York; Rev. H. C. Flsh. Newarl 
N. j. ; Rev. J. P. Newman, Washington, D. C. ; Rev. Hkrric 
JoHNS(iN. Philadelphia. Pa.; Rev. W. H. H. Murray. Boston. 

These Sermons will be i>rinted on neat uhite papei. uith sii 
paper cover, and those already received have been pronounce 
among the best on this subject ever delivered. We trust the f'-icnt 
of the cause will give them a wide circulation. 

Sent by mail, post-paid, on receipt of price. Address 

J. N. STEARNS, Publishing Agent, 

r>S lieade S.'rcet, Xcw York, 



PUBLICATIONS OF THE 

NATIONAL TEMPERANCE SOCIETY 

AND PUBLICATIOX HOUSE, 
FOR SUNDAY-SCHOOL LIBRARIES. 

Sent by Mail on receipt of Price. 

TJte lemperance "iJocfor. \inm. .'370 i)p. By Mi>s Maky Dwinell 

CiiKi.Li!*, Auilioiul ••UL-acou Sims Prayers," etc Sf 35 

2'Ae Old TJroh/i 7*if'//er. l^iiio. 2-22 pp. By the Author of" Susy's 

Six Birtiulays,"" " 1 he !• lower of the 1^ umily," etc f 00 

Out of //if I'ire. 12nu), 420 pp. By Miss Mahy Dwinei.l Cukllis, 

Author of •'Temperance iJocior," *• JJeacoii Sim's Prayers," etc. ... / 35 

Our 'P,iris/i. ISmo. 252 pp. By Mrs. Emily C. F'eaiison 75 

2'/ie Jlarrl Jf aster. 18mo, 278 pp. By JSIrs. J. E. McConauguy. . S5 

i:c/io jSa}ik. ISuio. 2()'.t i)p. By EuviE S5 

I'/ie Jied 7>riif!/€. ISmo. 321 pp. By Tiiuace Tal.max 00 

ftac/tet JS'ob/e^s I^xperience. 18mo, 325 pp. By Buuce Edwards. OO 

TuPt' a/ //le Sars. IHiiio. 10<pp ZO 

History of a T/treepenuy Tiit. ISmo, 21G i)p 75 

f/ii/ip jt'cA'ert's 6'trt(f/{//es and Triunip/ts. 18ino, 216 j-p. By 

the Author of " Margaret Chilr ' ' <iO 

Ger/ie^s Sacrifice; or, G/inipses at 'Tn-o Zires. 18ino, 189 pp. 

By Mrs. b\ D. Gage 50 

T/ie broken Hock. 18mo, 139 pp. By Kruna, Author of "Lift a 

Little," etc 50 

:4.ndreH' T>ouff/ass. 18mo. 232 pp. By the Author of '' Madeline," 

" Harry and his Uog," etc 75 

2iev. 7)r. M'i/lonff/iby and /tis It'ine. 12mo, 458 pp. By Mrs. 

Maky SPIiI^G W alkkr. Author of •"i'he Family Dt)ctor," etc / 50 

Aunt Sina/t's 7^/ed(/e. limo, 318 i)p. By ]Miss Mary Dwinell 

CiiELLis. Author of •• Temperance Doctor." '• Out of the Fire," etc. / ^J 
Franfc Otdfie/d ; or. Lost and Found. 12mo, 408 pp. By Rev. 

T. P. W iLsox, M.D / J(9 

Tom 7i /inn's Temperance Society, and ot/ier Stories. 12mo, 

320 pp. By T . s. autuur, Atittior of '"\\\\ Nights in a Dar-Room." / 25 

7/ie 7>est rel/oM- in /lie hor/d. 12mo, 360 pp / S5 

T/te .l/v;>i//is/ers. l8mo, 216 pp 60 

'2'/ie l>rinA-insf-Toun/ain S/ories. 102 pp. Illustrated / 00 

.7ur/-0r-.\ o/. By Mrs. J. McNair Wright. Author oi" " John and the 

Demijoliii," " Almost a Nun,'' " Priest and Xun," etc / 25 

Co7ue Home, .Tfot/ier. ISmo. 144 pp. By Nelsie Brook 50 

Job 'J'uf/on's 7ies/. 12mo. 332 pp. By Clara Lucas Balfour. .. . ^25 

T/ie JLirker Fami/y. 12mo, 336 pp. By Emily Thompson / 25 

Tim 's Troub/es . l2mo. 3.50 pp. By M. A. Pa ull / 50 

Ifoped-ile 7'arern. 12mo, 2 2 pnc:es. By J. W. Van Na.mee / 00 

Ti'ov't Search. 12mo. 264 pp. By Helen C. Pearson f 2.* 

//on' could /te Ftcnpe ? 12mo, 312 p)). By Mrs. Mr\'An'< Wright. / 25 
T/te 'Pi/r/ier of Coo/ dialer. 18mo. 180 pages. By T. S. Arthur. SO 

7'emperance .-^Inecdotes. l2mo. 2iJ8 pp. By Geo. W. Bungay f OO 

7yte 'Temperance Speaker. 18mo. 288 pp. By J. N. Stearns 75 

Frank Spencer's 7i' u/e of Life. 18mo, 180 pp. By John W. Kin- 

-r-'N SO 

Addrtu. J. N. STEARNS, Publishing Agent, 

M ilEADK STREEl", NnW VOP»- 



OF THE 

SENT BY MAIL, ON RECEIPT OF PRICE. 



F'our "PUfars of Temperance. By John W. Kirton SO 7^ 

The four Pillars are : Reason, Science, Scripture, and Experience. 

Mlco/iol : Its .Xulure (iiid IJffecls . F.y Charles A. Storey, M.D. . />6 

Scriphire 7'estimonj ar/ttinst Intoxii-ating M'liie. By Rev. Wm. Ritchie. 

ot Scotland ' .' (it 

Tiible 'Rate of Temperance : or, Tofat Abstinence from all Tntoarictt- 

ing t>rinks. By Rev. George Duffield, Vy.\i Ct 

Atco/iot: Its ^^tftre and 'Pone>-. By James Miller. And The Use and 

Abuse of Tobacco . liy J olm Lizars / Of. 

Zootof/icat Ti mperance Convention. By Rev. Edward Hitchcock, D.D., of 

Amherst College 76 

'Detarre/i's Consideration of ilie Temperance Arf/umenl and Ilislorjy .. :/ 5C 

'7'en//jf'i-(t/tce Anecdotes . By G. W. Bungay i OC 

Conun union It'ine ft net 7>ibte TemperaJi'-e. By Rev. Wm. M. Thayer. 

Pa[)er. 20 cents; cloth : of. 

Ztinarius : A Yisifor fi'om the Jfoon .J.j 

Sound 7 o/ut/te of 'Tracts. 4S8 pp / Ot 

Temperance "Pledr/e- TjO'tk i 5(j 

This P/rtfffe-Book for Sunday-schools and Juvenile Temperance Organizations 
contains piges with sufficient sjjace for one thousand names, and also for the 
records of nuetings held. 

7ext- Tiook of Temperance. By Dr. F. R. Lees, F.S. A / oC 

A'ationat Temperance Atmanar, fS7f Contains 72 pages of Statistics 
ol IntempL-rance. Anecduics. Stories, Tuz/'us. Choice Illustrations. Post- 
C>ffice Address of ")fficers of Stiite and Xmional liodies. a full Directory of 
all Temperance Organizations \\\ New York City and lirooklyn, all Tem- 
perance Publications, etc., etc. Send for it. Price /6 

Jacket of Assorted Tracts, JS^o . /. Xos. i to 50. 254 pages 25 

Jacket of Assorted Tracts, .lb. 2. Nos. 50 to 82, with several 24-page 

Tracts. 252 pages 25 

"Pocket 2'emperance iPtedf/eSook /6 

y'otumes of Advocate and Sanner, bound together, 1866, '67, '68. and '69, 

each 2 00 

Sound Vots. of Sanner, paper covers, 1S66, 67, '63. and '6g, each .T(5 

TiCU)id J'ots. of banner, for years 1866. "67, '68. and '69, cloth / fjO 

y^acket of 72 Pictorial C/iitdren's Tracts 25 

Jolni Sniff . ^Vlth appropriate illustrations f5 

Temperftnce Atphabet in Colors ^ illustrated by Edward Carswell ii5 

Laws of Fermentation, and Wines of Itie Ancients "s Kev. Wm. Pat 

ton. D.D. Paper, 30 cents ; cloth ^e' 

Address 

J. N. STEARNS. Publishing Ajjeni, 

S6 KEADK STRKET, Nf?W YORK.. 



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